


Just For Tonight

by cdreaiton



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Anal Sex, Audio 029: Serenity (Torchwood), BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Ianto Jones, Bottom Owen, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Ianto Jones Does Seduction, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Painplay, Post-Audio 011: Broken, Post-Episode: s02e04 Meat, Power Dynamics, Sort Of, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Jack, Top Owen, Whipping, very brief mention of past rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdreaiton/pseuds/cdreaiton
Summary: Ianto's not the first member of his team Jack's helped by joining them in the bedroom. When Ianto finds out about Jack's relationship with Owen, his reaction isn't quite what Jack expected. But he's certainly not complaining.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness/Owen Harper, Jack Harkness/Owen Harper/Ianto Jones, Owen Harper/Ianto Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	Just For Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you squint really hard, you might find a plot somewhere in this story, but really it's just an excuse for the porn. This story has some rather heavy Dom/sub tones to it, and a significant amount of pain play, so if that's not your thing, this might not be your kind of read. If it is, carry on! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> This story is set directly following the series two episode Meat, and references the events in the audio dramas Broken and Serenity.

Jack looked at the clock on his desk and was a little startled to see how late it was. The clock read 7:24, which concerned Jack slightly. Ianto usually made his last coffee round of the day at five, and he distinctly remembered the others leaving for the day, which would have been around six. But there was no coffee mug on his desk. The beginnings of worry starting to form in his chest, Jack pulled up the CCTV footage of the Hub, and scanned through the various cameras until he found Ianto. He was in the archives. Jack smiled to himself. It was so like his lover to completely lose track of time while he was working in the dark, dungeon like corridors. Especially after a day as long as the one they’d just had. Jack turned off the screen, and left his office to find Ianto in person.

Jack navigated through the archives quickly and quietly. He’d gotten extremely good at finding his way around the basement floors when he’d been with Lucia. It was one of the few places they could go without being caught. A trait he very much enjoyed exploiting now, with Ianto. Spying the tell-tale crisp lines of Ianto’s suit through one of the shelves, Jack slowed his movements, sliding a hand around Ianto’s hip as he came up behind him, and pressing a soft kiss just below Ianto’s ear.

“Doesn’t it ever bother you that I killed you?”

Jack pulled back a little at the sudden question. It was a strange thing to ask so randomly, which immediately told him that Ianto had been thinking about it for quite some time, making it the likely reason he’d forgotten the time. Jack rubbed his hands down Ianto’s arms reassuringly.

“No. Does it bother you?” Jack asked, gently probing for more information. He found himself in the unique position of trying to determine  _ which _ death Ianto was talking about. By Jack’s current count, Ianto was responsible for four. Twice at the hands of Lisa, (not directly his fault, but he was still technically responsible,) once during the incident with the Saviour, (again, not  _ directly  _ his fault, but still,) and the last was only a few months ago while they were undercover in Serenity Plaza. Ianto had shot him in the head, but he’d had a good reason, and they’d discussed it later. He’d thought Ianto was okay now.

“But we had sex afterwards. How is that normal?” Ianto continued, placing his hands on the table in front of him.

Jack gave himself a small sigh of both relief and concern. Ianto’s comment had taken three of the deaths off the table. They hadn’t started sleeping together until weeks after the incident with Lisa, (though, if he was being honest, Jack wasn’t entirely sure Ianto knew about those two, as he’d been unconscious at the time,) and they’d both been far too exhausted after cleaning up at Serenity to even contemplate extracurricular activities. In fact, it had been the first night in weeks that they  _ hadn’t _ shared a bed. Jack smiled. At least he knew what they were talking about now.

“I’ve slept with several people after they killed me. Had one particularly enthusiastic lover kill me  _ during _ sex once. That was an… interesting experience.” He felt Ianto shudder beneath his hands and turned the younger man to face him. “What is this about, Ianto?”

“Gwen said something earlier and it just… stuck with me. Usually, I’m fairly certain how you’ll react to a situation, but this…"

“There’s an easy way to get the answer.” Jack remarked with a soft smile, “I’m right here. Ask me. Something you want to try? I’m game for pretty much anything.”

Ianto blushed furiously, his mind feeling it necessary to start rattling off all of the items on his list of ‘Things To Try With Jack.’ He shook the thoughts from his head, not ready to drop the conversation just yet. He placed his hands on Jack’s chest, pushing away slightly. Jack tilted his head in question, but Ianto just held him there at arms length.

“Gwen said that…” Ianto cleared his throat, willing his voice not to crack. Anxiety getting the better of him, he began pacing around the small open area. He was so desperate to keep his voice calm, that his words came out in a rush. “She said that you’re always so horny it would be impossible for a person to rape you. That you’d just stop what you were doing and go along with the sudden change in activity. And at first, I thought that couldn’t be right. You have bodily autonomy just like anyone else. But then I remembered our ‘just this once,’ and I thought maybe I was wrong. You seemed more than willing, even after everything that happened. But us, together, that night, that was  _ my _ idea, and I wasn’t exactly taking no for an answer, even though you really actually said it at least twice before I convinced you to come back to my flat. I didn’t even give you the chance to say no before I kissed you. So, I guess, the question I really want to ask is…” He stopped and looked into Jack’s, very confused, blue eyes, “Did I rape you?”

Jack stared at Ianto and blinked several times, trying to force his brain to process the alarming amount of information Ianto had imparted over the last ten seconds. But apparently, his brain wasn’t working fast enough. Pain and horror rose in Ianto’s eyes, and he turned to run out the door. Jack’s brain engaged.

“Ianto. Ianto! Listen to me!” Jack grabbed Ianto’s arms and held him fast, forcing the younger man to look at him. His heart hurt at the fear in his lover's eyes. He gripped Ianto tighter and kept his voice calm. “I  _ have _ been raped. In the past. Gwen was wrong, it  _ is _ possible. But  _ not _ by you. And you  _ will _ listen to me when I tell you this.” Jack moved one of his hands from Ianto’s arm and put it on his throat, applying just enough pressure to make his presence known. Ianto’s pupils blew wide at the sensation, and Jack felt the soft tremble of arousal beneath his hand. Leaning in so his face was only a few centimeters from Ianto’s, Jack smirked wickedly and dropped his voice into a low, husky tone. “My memory for detail may not be as good as yours, but I remember our first night together  _ very _ well. And once we made it to your flat, I don’t recall you having very much control over the situation. In fact, I distinctly remember having my hands on your throat when I came inside you. So,” Jack softened his smile and his grip on Ianto’s throat, “Let me turn your question around. Did I rape  _ you _ ?”

“No!” Ianto nearly shouted, reaching up and gripping Jack’s sleeve tightly. He calmed a second later, voice dropping to a more sheepish tone. “No. I… enjoyed it. All of it. Everything you did… I wanted it.”

“So did I,” Jack assured him, cupping his cheek gently, “I told you I would do anything to take your pain away, and I meant it.”

“So it was a pity shag?” Ianto asked with a self-deprecating smile.

“No,” Jack corrected him with a smile, despite his serious tone, “You needed someone to drive away the numbness and the pain from your mind and just make you  _ feel. _ I went home with you that night for several reasons, but pity wasn’t one of them.”

“Then why? Why bother with me?” Ianto’s voice was small and hurting, but Jack knew he wasn’t broken. Something had simply made him unsteady for a moment. With a sigh, Jack realised what it was. He pulled Ianto into his arms and held him tightly while he processed his thoughts.

He remembered Gwen’s comment from that morning. Ianto had been handing out coffee. It was a comment that probably would have caused more discussion if they hadn’t received the call about a crashed lorry full of suspicious meat. A case which had led to Ianto tied up and held hostage at gunpoint, a situation he desperately hated. It made him feel like a liability in the field, no matter how many times Jack assured him that he wasn’t. It also, inevitably, dredged up memories to try and support his self-beratement. Memories of a country village drenched in blood, a knife at his throat, and the evil of human nature. Which had led him down the rabbit hole that had brought them to this conversation. Jack kissed the top of Ianto’s head and then pulled back, brushing the hair from Ianto’s eyes to convince him to look at him.

“I don’t have many rules in my life. But turning down a handsome guy who’s practically just crawled in my lap and asked me home? Definitely against the rules.” Jack chanced a smile and was pleased when the corner of Ianto’s mouth twitched in response. “Honestly? That was the main reason. The other reasons were more… clinical.” Jack said, hoping he wasn’t about to drive Ianto away for the rest of the evening. Ianto wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough day. “Torchwood Three is small. Has been since before I was in charge. But I like it that way, so I keep it that way. It gives a more…  _ personal _ feel to our work. You aren’t just another cog in a machine. We’re a family. But while there are definite benefits to doing this, there are also some problems.” Jack sighed and took Ianto’s hands in his. “I’m your boss. But when you mess up, I can’t just put a reprimand in your file. And I refuse to follow One’s protocol of ret-con or execution being the only options. Which leaves forgiveness. And the time and support to learn from your mistakes. But sometimes… sometimes I have an employee who needs a little more. Someone who, when the things we see and do become too much, needs a hand to wipe away the tears and drive away the demons.”

“You make it sound like you’ve done it before.” Ianto said with a breathy sigh of amusement. Jack looked away for just a moment, but Ianto caught it. His heart sped up. “Oh my God… you have.  _ Who? _ ”

Jack was startled at the question. Or rather, he was startled at how it had been asked. Not in the angry and demanding way of a jealous lover, but in a curious… almost  _ salacious _ way. The entire atmosphere of their conversation changed in a nanosecond, and Jack wondered idly if it was possible to get emotional whiplash. He opened his mouth to say… something, but then Ianto’s eyebrows shot up, understanding showing in his eyes as he gasped.

“It’s Owen, isn’t it?” Ianto grinned when Jack physically flinched at the sudden (and somehow correct) answer. “It is! Oh, that explains _so_ _much!_ ”

“Wha...?” 

“After that case with the weevils, when he went in that cage to fight one, you went round to his flat one night to check on him. He looked awful at work and you said you were worried.” Ianto started, eyes slightly unfocused as he remembered.

“I was!” Jack insisted, suddenly feeling as though he had to defend his words.

“And the next day he came in, calmer than he’s been in weeks,” Ianto continued, ignoring Jack’s outburst, “And then there was that thing while you were gone, and he was a serious wreck after that ghost machine made him experience what happened to that girl. Or when he called you  _ his _ captain, before he knew about us. And after you died, you held him so tight... “

“Ianto,” Jack squeezed his lover’s hands, trying to regain control of the conversation. He failed.

“When did it start?”

In all fairness, it was a valid question, and while Ianto didn’t seem angry about Jack apparently hiding an entire other relationship from him, Jack was still reeling a little from the extremely unorthodox twist to their conversation. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d talk about, least of all with Ianto. He let go of Ianto’s hands and ran a hand through his hair, trying to convince his brain to focus. The question Ianto had asked was easy enough, and Jack found he had no desire to lie to him.

“About a week after he started.” Jack admitted quietly. “He lost his fiance to an alien. That’s how I recruited him. About a week after he got here, we had a  _ really _ bad day. Nasty piece of tech. We were finally able to contain it, but it was a hollow victory. It took over half a dozen lives, all children under the age of ten. We were all upset, who wouldn’t be? But he took it the hardest. It made him feel powerless, just like he had with Katie. Anyway, I sent everyone home for a couple days to recover, and went to my office to finish up the paperwork, before crashing myself. But Owen… Owen took a bottle of scotch down into the med lab. I tried to tell him to go home, or at least out, but he insisted he had to wait for some test to finish running and the drink was just to keep him occupied until it did.” Jack sighed and leaned against the shelving unit next to him, folding his arms across his chest. “Anyway, he got drunk. Really drunk… and really angry. And in his drunken stupor, he decided that  _ I _ was responsible for everything bad in the world. So, he came storming into my office and started yelling at me.

“I just stood there. I knew he wasn’t really angry at  _ me _ , he just needed somewhere to  _ focus _ his anger… and his pain. But I guess he didn’t want me to be calm about it, because as soon as he realised I wasn’t responding, he lunged at me. He was drunk, so he wasn’t difficult to avoid, but being drunk apparently doesn’t affect his reflexes. He tripped me, and in order to avoid landing on my face, I grabbed the edge of the desk and fell on my knees. I told him that if he wanted me on my knees so bad, he should have just asked.”

“You seriously can’t help yourself, can you?” Ianto smirked with a chuckle.

“It’s part of my charm.” Jack winked at him, “But, as you can imagine, he didn’t take it very well. Although, heh, he didn't respond the way I thought he would.”

“So he  _ didn’t _ beat you into the floor?” Ianto raised an eyebrow at him, unbelieving.

“Uh… no…”

And it was at that moment, for the first and only time in his life, Ianto saw Captain Jack Harkness  _ blush. _ The sight made his heart skip wildly and jump around in his throat. He savored the phenomenon, burning the image into his memory to take out and look at later.

“So what happened?” Ianto asked, licking his suddenly dry lips. If  _ Jack _ was embarrassed, it had to be good.

“Aha, well... “ Jack paused and gauged Ianto’s mood. Deciding that the atmosphere was light enough, but wanting to keep it that way, he continued, “Let’s just say… I went along with the sudden change in activity. I mean, I  _ did _ sorta put the idea in his head.”

“He didn’t.” Ianto whispered, half amused, half horrified, both emotions battling for dominance.

“Oh, he did,” Jack assured him with a smile, “Said that if I was so desperate for his cock, he’d give it to me. Pulled on my hair and everything. Not my best work, but at the time, I didn’t have much control over the situation.”

“Why didn’t you stop him? Jack he…” Ianto’s tone had changed, horror winning out.

“No. He didn’t.” Jack put a hand on Ianto’s arm, calming his anxiety before it turned to anger. “If I had wanted him to stop, I would have stopped him. Just like with you, in the SUV. One of my team needed me, so I changed my plans for the evening, and let him use me.”

“And if I had needed that…?”

“Then our first evening together would have played out much differently,” Jack told him with absolute certainty, “But that  _ isn’t _ what you needed. And it isn’t what Owen needed either.”

“But he…”

“He started in control, yes.” Jack agreed, “But, as you mentioned earlier, so did you.”

“All _ I _ did was kiss you!” Ianto reminded him, a little defensively.

“Yes.  _ After _ you sold me into slavery, and left me to ‘suffer and die.’” Jack winked at him again so he knew the barb wasn’t meant to be hurtful, “I didn’t exactly have much control of that situation either. I took control later, after we got to your flat.”

“So you… what? Turned the tables on him?”

“Not exactly. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him, like I did with you, so I wasn’t really sure  _ what _ he needed at that point. So, I let him finish. Figured he’d either go the full monty, or the anger would bleed off with his release. Sure, he’d be embarrassed when it was over, but he’d get over it and feel better once he was sober.” Jack shrugged and crossed his arms again.

“I take it that’s not what happened?”

Jack smiled again, though it was a little sadder this time.

“His anger did bleed off when he finished, but so did the alcohol. He came back to his senses with a death grip on my hair, and his cock down my throat. And since I hadn’t had the chance to verbalise my consent before we started…”

“He thought the same thing I did,” Ianto finished, shaking his head in sympathy, “Poor bastard.”

“He tried to bolt out of my office, but I grabbed him and threw him to the floor.”

***

_ Jack climbed on top of Owen and grabbed both his wrists, slamming them into the floor and pinning him in place. Owen struggled against him, but Jack was by far the more muscular of the two men, and won out easily. _

_ “No!” Jack shouted at him, voice loud, but not angry. Just enough to try and force Owen to stop struggling long enough to talk to him. “Owen! Stop! Just listen! Look at me!” Owen finally looked at him, brown eyes sharp with fear and sorrow and self-loathing. “You had my consent before you ever touched me. Do you hear me?! I know you think you forced me, but you  _ didn’t _. I had plenty of opportunities to stop you, and I think it’s pretty obvious that if I had tried, I would’ve won.” He squeezed Owen’s wrists firmly to make his point, feeling the younger man start to tremble beneath him. _

_ “What are you going to do to me?” Owen asked in a whisper, afraid of the answer. _

_ Jack looked into Owen’s eyes, trying to find a hint of how he should handle this. The man was battered and broken, hanging on to sanity by a thin, fragile thread. There were tears hiding behind his eyes, and Jack realised it would be like attempting to move a mountain to try and make them fall. But he was up to the challenge. He just hoped Owen would let him help. It was obvious the young doctor needed the comfort and release Jack could provide, but his stubborn pride might prevent him from accepting help from  _ anyone _ , let alone his male boss, who he’d just nearly raped in his own office. _

_ “I’m going to give you a choice,” Jack answered, his voice calm, without a hint of anger, “You’re in pain. The kind of pain that makes it difficult to open your eyes in the morning, let alone trying to get out of bed. Every part of you is in agony, but the drink isn’t helping this time. It’s making it worse. Adding fuel to the fire and making you  _ burn _.” Jack heard Owen’s breath hitch ever so slightly and continued, hoping it was a good sign. “I can help you. I can make you forget about the pain for a while and drive the painful thoughts from your mind. Or, you can leave, and we’ll pretend this never happened. It’s up to you. But if you decide to leave, I won’t offer again. It’s your choice.” _

_ Jack loosened his grip on Owen’s wrists, just enough that he could pull himself free without much difficulty if he wanted to. Owen’s body remained tense, but he didn’t try to leave. He looked up at Jack, eyes narrowed with suspicion. But Jack could see the hope behind it. _

_ “How?” He asked simply, voice nearly inaudible. _

_ Jack smirked and leaned down over him, pressing his wrists back into the floor. He dropped his voice low and layered it with pure sex. _

_ “First, I’ll tie you up and beat you until you scream and cry for mercy. Then, I’ll bend you over and fuck you so hard your ears will still be ringing in a week.” The colour in Owen’s eyes went black with arousal, and Jack felt him start to harden again beneath him. “How long has it been since you allowed yourself to let go and lose yourself in pleasure? Since you surrendered yourself to someone else?” _

_ “I’ll never surrender to you,” Owen retorted, a breathless plea disguised as defiance, “You’ll have to break me first.” _

_ “It would be my pleasure.” _

***

“And that’s exactly what I did,” Jack said, finishing his story, “Then, a few weeks later, after another bad day, he came into my office after everyone left, and shoved me into the wall. So, I did it again. And again. And again. Whenever he needed me to.”

Jack watched Ianto carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. Ianto didn’t meet his eyes, his head cocked slightly to one side. He pursed his lips and took a breath.

“Huh.” And with that extremely vague response, Ianto turned on his heel, and headed for the door.

“Wait, what?” Jack asked the empty air where Ianto had just been standing. He jogged after Ianto, grabbing his arm and coming around in front of him. “Ianto, you…”

Ianto raised an eyebrow in question as Jack trailed off.

“Aren’t you supposed to be angry about this?” Jack asked, confused. It didn’t help that his mind was still trying to recover from the sudden change in topic, let alone the end of the conversation.

“Have you slept with him since you came back?” Ianto’s voice was calm and light, the exact opposite of what Jack had been expecting.

“No…”

“Then what do I have to be angry about?” Ianto asked practically, sliding his arm out of Jack’s grip and heading out of the basement into the main Hub, leaving behind a very confused Jack.

“Ianto! Wait!”

***

Ianto was quiet as Jack drove them to his flat. He hadn’t commented any further on Jack’s relationship with Owen, worrying Jack slightly. But the silence wasn’t that of a man who was angry or purposefully ignoring him. Ianto simply appeared to be thinking. The silent thinking continued even after they entered the flat and hung up their coats. Ianto slipped off his suit jacket and vest, kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie before gracefully taking a seat on the sofa. Jack joined him in short order, and moments after sitting down, found his lap had become Ianto’s pillow. He smiled warmly as Ianto handed him his current book from the coffee table.

It was a familiar routine, and Jack fell into it easily. They had spent a fair number of evenings since Serenity in the same position. It gave Ianto the time he needed to finish pondering whatever thoughts were on his mind, while also allowing Jack to offer silent support until Ianto was ready to talk about it. Jack opened his book and began to read, idly running a hand through Ianto’s hair.

The silence was comfortable between them, and before Jack knew it, half an hour had passed. Ianto had turned in his lap and was staring at the ceiling, his breathing so even and calm that Jack would have thought he was asleep if his eyes hadn’t been open.

“You told me my coffee was bad.” Ianto said suddenly, breaking his silence for the first time in almost an hour.

“I did what? When?” Jack asked, startled by the statement.

“After the thing with the Saviour. You said my coffee wasn’t always as good as I think it is.”

“Oh… yeah.” Jack agreed after a second, remembering their conversation in the SUV shortly before Ianto had kissed him the first time. “I did. Sorry about that.”

“That’s not it,” Ianto waved his apology away with a flick of his hand, “I mean, you’re right. It’s not always perfect. It's always good, but not always perfect. No one’s perfect.”

“True.” Jack kept his voice neutral, hoping Ianto wasn’t about to have a crisis over his coffee making skills. His lover’s moods had been a roller coaster over the last hour, this latest bizarre topic included, and it was getting harder to ignore his worry.

“The same goes for you.” Ianto continued.

“My coffee’s always bad.” Jack chuckled.

“No.  _ I _ do coffee.  _ You _ do sex.”

“As often as I can,” Jack agreed with a short laugh. Then he ran Ianto’s words back through his mind. “Wait. What? Did you just say I’m  _ bad _ at  _ sex? _ ”

“No, I said you aren’t  _ perfect _ at sex.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Jack turned in his seat, causing Ianto to sit up and face him. A different thought floated to the top of Jack’s consciousness. “Ianto, is there something we’ve done that’s upset you? You know you just have to tell me... ”

“What? No! I’m not talking about me, I’m talking about Owen.”

“Owen?” Jack asked, confused by the sudden shift in conversation, “What about Owen?”

“You did him wrong. Or rather, half wrong. You were missing the other side of the equation.”

“I’m sorry…  _ wrong _ ? What equation? What are you talking about?” For the second time that evening, Jack found himself no longer in control of the conversation, which was once again headed in an extremely bizarre direction, and he had no idea what was going on.

“While you were gone, we had this really rough day, kind of like today, but without Rhys or space whales, and, after a few drinks, Owen fell asleep on the sofa. I stayed late to keep an eye on him, like he usually did with me, and he had a nightmare. When he woke up, he walked straight into your office, like he didn’t see me. I followed him to make sure he was alright, but when I touched his shoulder, he grabbed me and shoved me into the wall. Then he kissed me.  _ Hard. _ And he told me… he said if I didn’t leave right then, he’d bend me over your desk and fuck me till I screamed his name and begged for mercy.”

“He did  _ what _ ?” Jack stood as a volley of different emotions started running through him. Ianto rose as well, and took a few steps towards Jack.

“Don’t you see? You’re missing half of the equation. Owen needs both sides of the coin.” Ianto said, his smile a mix between reassuring and mischievous.

As Ianto continued to move closer, Jack started to back up, keeping Ianto more than an arms length away from him.

“Did you hit your head?” Jack asked, a bit faster and snappier than he meant to. “Sorry. I mean, in the warehouse. When you fell.”

“No. Why?” Ianto returned, raising an eyebrow, still moving closer.

“Because I’m starting to think you've scrambled your brain. I've half a mind to call Owen!” Jack answered as calmly as he could, which turned out to be not very calmly at all.

“Well if you’d been  _ listening _ instead of worrying so much, you’d have realised that that’s  _ exactly _ what I want you to do.” Ianto said, maintaining his own calm and that smile that Jack loved, but at the moment thought might be slowly pushing him further and further into the strange madness that seemed to have consumed his lover.

“What?” Jack flinched as his back suddenly hit the wall. He was trapped, and Ianto was still advancing.

“Today was bad, Jack. That poor thing was an innocent. And you know as well as I do that he’s sitting alone in his flat, in the dark, torturing himself for failing that creature today. He’s ripping himself apart. But he won’t go to you because he knows about us now, so he thinks it isn’t an option anymore, but he’s wrong. We have to show him, Jack. He needs this. He needs  _ us _ .” Ianto reached him and put his hands on Jack’s waist.

There were a great many things in the world that confused Jack Harkness; dating rituals, Mariachi music, Gwen’s attraction to Rhys; the list was long and seemingly endless some days. But sex, in all its varied, different, and pleasurable forms, had never been one of them. Once you figured out each partner’s unique differences and what pieces fit where, sex was relatively straightforward. And yet, for the _second_ time in his long and colourful life, Jack found himself looking at one Ianto Jones, trying to figure out how exactly they’d arrived at the station, when he hadn’t even gotten on the train. He closed his eyes for a moment and went over Ianto’s words, looking for an answer that didn’t sound completely mad.

“Ianto… I don’t… are you saying that…?” There was really only one thing Ianto could be suggesting, but Jack’s mind simply refused to accept it.

“I’m saying that I want you to call Owen, use whatever excuse you have to, and get him over here. Now. I like the concussion idea, actually.”

“Okay, but… why?” Jack asked cautiously, while part of his mind crossed its fingers in anticipation of the answer.

Ianto leaned in close, backing Jack even further against the wall, and bent his head to nip gently at Jack’s neck, his voice reverberating through the Captain’s body.

“So he can fuck me senseless while you whip him black and bloody.”

Every muscle in Jack’s body tensed as his entire blood supply went straight to his cock, making him grateful that the wall was there to keep him upright, as his knees went weak beneath him. 

“Is that a no?” Ianto smirked, sliding a hand down from Jack’s hip to cup his length inside his trousers, pressing gently and making Jack inhale sharply. “Didn’t think so. Our poor, dear doctor needs us. So, what do you say,  _ sir _ ?” Ianto removed his hand and grabbed Jack's hips in a bruising grip, pulling him forward enough to press against him, making his own prominent arousal known. Jack almost managed to prevent a groan of need from escaping him, but Ianto's breath was hot on his neck, and his voice was like honeyed silk in his ear, driving him mad with desire and need as he placed feather light kisses all along the skin above Jack’s collar. "You want this. You want to watch him hurt me, bleed me… break me. Watch him hold me down and force himself inside me while I scream and beg for mercy… for more. Watch him strip me bare… claim me... "

Jack suddenly grabbed Ianto's arm, reversing their positions in the blink of an eye. He slammed Ianto into the wall and crowded his body with his own, his hand on Ianto's throat effectively pinning him. He smiled almost evilly and Ianto whimpered softly in response, relaxing under the controlling touch. Now that he understood what was going on, Jack slid into his role with practiced ease.

"You belong to  _ me _ , Ianto Jones. And if you ever forget that," Jack applied a little more pressure to Ianto's neck, just enough to start limiting his air supply, "Then I will be more than happy to spend as much time as necessary etching myself into your skin, marking you until every atom in your body remembers that you are  _ mine _ .”

Jack pulled his mobile out of his trouser pocket and dialed swiftly. Ianto opened his mouth to say something, but Jack cut him off by tightening his grip even further, forcing tiny gasps from Ianto’s mouth as he tried to regulate his restricted breathing. As the sound of the first ring came through the tinny speaker, Jack released Ianto’s throat, and pressed down on the younger man’s shoulder, giving him a single, one word command.

“Suck.”

Ianto dropped to his knees in a fluid, graceful motion, making quick work of Jack’s flies and swallowing him down to the root within seconds. Jack bit back another groan at the sight in front of him, but couldn’t help the shallow thrust of his hips into the warm, wet heat of Ianto’s throat.

“What do you want, Harkness?” Owen’s irritated voice answered the phone.

“Owen,” Jack smiled, managing to keep the tremor from his voice as Ianto slid back and rolled his tongue around the head of Jack’s cock. “Small favour. Ianto’s been feeling a bit woozy the last little while, and he thinks he might have hit his head on the cement floor in the warehouse earlier. I don’t think it’s serious, but would you be willing to come and take a look at him?”

Ianto pulled off of Jack and mumbled under his breath.

“He better do more than look.”

Jack ignored the comment and used his free hand to bring Ianto back to the task at hand. Ianto licked a long stripe up the underside of Jack’s cock, making the man shudder as he tried to listen to Owen’s response.

“Seriously? That idiot! Why didn’t he tell me he hit his head?” Owen sighed, his irritation fading as his doctor side took over. “Is he dizzy, feverish?”

Jack set his hand on Ianto’s forehead and pushed down, forcing Ianto to look up at him, lips stretched wide around his cock.

“He’s definitely hot to the touch.” Jack smirked, though he kept his tone even.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll head over. His flat or the Hub?” Owen asked, and Jack could hear clothes rustling on the other end.

“His flat.”

“Okay. Fifteen minutes. Don’t let him fall asleep.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Jack ended the call and dropped his phone back into his pocket. He pulled Ianto to his feet and tucked himself back into his trousers. Ianto looked at him quizzically. Jack put a hand on Ianto’s arm. “Talk to me. We can do this, I have no problems with that, believe me. But Owen will be here in fifteen minutes. So you have that long to convince me that  _ you _ have no problems with it.”

“Jack,” Ianto smiled that calm smile again, “Why would I have suggested it if I had problems with it?”

“Because you think it’s something I want, so you’re humoring me? Or maybe because you actually  _ did _ hit your head?” Jack returned the smile, but there was still worry in his eyes. “Ianto, you’ve never said  _ anything _ that would make me think you’ve been thinking about or wanting something like this. You have, in fact, threatened to kill me repeatedly for jokingly suggesting it.”

“That was different. I had  _ no _ interest in any of those people.”

“But you’re interested in Owen?”

“I almost stayed,” Ianto said quietly, “When he kissed me, I wanted to. But I was missing you so much, and I couldn’t…” Ianto dropped his gaze to the floor. “If I had, and you’d come back… I was worried you’d think I didn't really care for you and leave again.” Raising his head, Ianto met Jack’s gaze again, passion burning in his blue-grey eyes. “I want this, Jack. Not forever, nothing’s changing, just…”

“Just this once, yeah?” Jack smirked, repeating his words from their first night together.

“Just this once.” Ianto agreed, returning the grin.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. So…” Jack continued with a hesitant laugh, “How exactly were you planning on convincing Owen?”

***

Jack answered the door on the third knock, making Owen flinch slightly at the sudden speed of the response.

“Thanks for coming, Owen.” Jack smiled, waving the doctor inside.

“Sure.” Owen stepped in and set down his medical bag, hanging his coat on the nearby rack. “How’s he doing? Any change?”

“He’s in the bedroom.” Jack answered, gesturing in the direction of the room in question, while neatly sidestepping Owen’s question.

“I told you not to let him go to sleep!” Irritated, Owen grabbed his bag and headed for Ianto’s bedroom.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s far from sleepy.” Jack smirked, unable to keep the thread of lust from his voice as he followed.

Owen looked back at him in confusion for a moment, then shook his head with a roll of his eyes and opened the bedroom door. Ianto was sitting on the end of the king size bed. He stood as they came in, smiling. Owen nodded and went to set his bag on the floor by the dresser. As he was about to crouch down to open it, he heard the door close. He spun around just in time to see Jack click the lock into place. Then the Captain leaned back against the door, smirking.

“What are you playing at, Jack?” Owen glared.

“Sorry about the ruse, Owen. But we really didn’t think you’d come if we straight up asked you.” He replied, his smile never wavering.

“Asked me what? What ruse?”

“It’s been a long, terrible day. We thought you could use some…  _ physical therapy _ .” Jack looked pointedly at the bed, pushed away from the door, and started walking towards Owen. Owen took a couple steps back, his eyes darting between Jack and Ianto, who still stood impassively at the foot of the bed.

“Quit messing about. This isn't funny, Jack!” Owen held up a hand to stop Jack from continuing towards him. Jack grabbed his wrist, holding him fast.

“Who’s messing, Owen?” Jack yanked Owen forward, spinning him as the doctor tried to correct being suddenly off-balance, and grabbed him tightly around his upper arms. He pulled Owen back against him, forcing him to look at Ianto while he murmured huskily in his ear. “I heard about what you did while I was gone. You tried to play with my toys. Tried to fuck him over my desk. Lucky for you, I’m not the jealous type. So this is your chance, Owen. Anything you want. One night only. You can leave if that's what you really want, but we won’t offer again.”

“What?” Owen retorted as his confused thoughts started connecting the dots. “What are you talking about? Let me go! I’m not gonna be a part of whatever sick game you’re playing, Harkness.” Owen shifted in Jack’s grip, trying to shake the hold on his arms, “Ianto! Tell him you don’t want to do this! Just because he’s got some barmy idea in his head, doesn’t mean you have to go along with it! Tell him!” Ianto continued to stare at him, unmoving. “Ianto!”

Ianto stepped forward and placed his hands over Jack’s on Owen’s arms, meeting the dark, angry gaze.

“Why would you want me to lie to you, Owen?” Ianto asked, making no effort to disguise the lust in his voice. “I thought you wanted to hear me scream and beg for mercy?”

Jack slid his hands out from under Ianto’s as Owen went quiet and stilled. He smiled to himself as he took a seat in the armchair they’d placed in the darkened corner. Ianto was in rare form tonight, and Jack thrilled at the idea of watching his lover work his magic on Owen. He’d only ever been the focus, not a witness to the young man’s impressive skills in the art of seduction.

“You can’t be serious…” Owen whispered, searching Ianto’s face for the trick, some clue that he was about to step away and laugh at him.

“I’m always serious, Owen. You know that.” Ianto slid his hands up Owen’s arms, then down over his chest until they came to rest low on the doctor’s hips. “If you really want to leave, I won’t stop you. But I know you want this.” He pulled Owen’s hips flush with his own, relishing in the heat he could feel through the layers of denim and wool, and the barely audible gasp drawn out by the motion. “I was too broken before, but I wanted it then too. Wanted you.” Ianto leaned down and licked along the shell of Owen’s ear as Owen gripped his arms tightly. He moved his hands up and under Owen’s shirts, gently running his fingers across the soft, warm skin. “Wanted you to whip me till I cried for you, begging you for mercy. Promising you anything,  _ everything _ , just to feel you inside of me. Filling me, stretching me, until the only thing I can think about is your cock claiming me, making me yours.”

Owen spun them suddenly, and Ianto’s back slammed into the wall for the second time that night. He wondered idly if he would be bruised later, and whether he should rethink the wiseness of pushing his partner’s arousal to the point of a physical reaction. Then Owen forced his wrists against the wall by his shoulders, roughly pinning him in place, and he threw every thought of reconsideration out the window when Owen pressed their lips together in a bruising, blinding kiss. There was no gentleness as Owen forced Ianto’s lips apart, deepening the kiss with such passion and desire that Ianto couldn’t help the mewls of need that escaped him. Ianto tried to respond in kind, but Owen dominated him with the kiss, setting fire to Ianto’s already heated blood. When Owen finally pulled away, Ianto’s heart was racing, and his breaths were coming in shallow pants.

“Wonder what the boss would think if he could see you right now. Flushed and hard, practically begging me to fuck you.” Owen’s half-whispered words were harsh, but his voice was liquid silver in Ianto’s ear, sending bolts of arousal straight to his cock.

“I’m not… begging yet…” Ianto responded softly, trying to regain control of his own voice.

“Don’t worry. You will be soon.” Owen released Ianto’s wrists and placed his hands on the wall, keeping Ianto boxed in. “Give me your tie.”

A shiver ran down Ianto’s spine at the sheer arousal and forcefulness of Owen’s tone. It was the exact same way he’d spoken when he’d kissed him the first time, and Ianto swallowed thickly, reaching up to do what Owen had ordered. He slid the silk knot from his neck, never once breaking eye contact as he handed the tie to Owen.

“I love it when a man brings his own rope.” Owen smirked as Ianto’s pupils blew wide, and he rubbed the gray plaid between his fingers. “Now the rest.”

Owen kept Ianto crowded against the wall, making it difficult for him to maneuver without rubbing against the doctor’s body. Ianto suppressed the tremble of arousal in his hands and started pulling at the buttons on his shirt. Owen grabbed his hands, stilling him.

“Slowly. Make it count.”

Ianto nodded and Owen put his hands back on the wall, while Ianto continued. He took his time, carefully sliding each button from its hole with precision. When he’d finished with the front, he moved on to the cuffs, shrugging his shoulders and letting the shirt fall to the floor. Normally, he would have folded his clothes as he removed them, and he was surprised that his inability to do so didn’t bother him.

“Give me your belt.”

Ianto whimpered quietly, and had to close his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to keep from coming in his trousers like a teenager, and resolutely ignoring the quiet groan that came from the corner. He slid the polished leather through the narrow loops of his trousers and handed the accessory to Owen, pressing his back further into the wall and inhaling sharply when he snapped the thin leather between his fists.

“Keep going.”

Taking another breath, Ianto popped the button on his trousers and slowly pulled down the zipper. He pushed and shimmied until the wool hit the carpet, then stepped out of them carefully, kicking the material to the side and slipping out of his socks at the same time.

“Last chance. You still sure?” Owen asked, his tone never changing, but a small sliver of worry flitted through his eyes.

“Worried you can’t take me?” Ianto’s voice was thick and hoarse, pouring more petrol on the raging inferno between them.

Owen’s eyes darkened and his hand moved before Ianto could even register the movement. He gasped loudly as he felt an almost painful pressure close around his throat, choking off any further comments.

“Did you say something?” Owen asked, grinning wickedly and squeezing slightly.

Ianto shook his head as well as he could, balling his fists at his sides and pressing them into the wall to keep from grabbing Owen’s wrist. The small part of his brain that was still interested in self-preservation didn’t think the doctor would appreciate  _ that _ much of a challenge to his authority. Owen released him and put his own fists back against the wall, Ianto’s tie in one hand, his belt in the other, the swaying material tickling gently against Ianto’s sides, reminding him of what was coming.

“Go on. Last piece.”

With a nod, Ianto pulled the top of his boxer briefs out and over his straining erection, letting them drop to the floor with his other clothes. Owen slowly pushed back from the wall, eyeing Ianto up and down as he did. Ianto fought the urge to cover himself at the intense level of scrutiny. Owen tucked the buckle end of the belt into his jeans pocket, grabbing the tie with both hands.

“Turn around. Fold your arms behind your back.”

Ianto bit his lower lip and tried to take a few steadying breaths as he complied with Owen’s order. He slid his arms up across his back until they were in position. The silk was cool on his skin as Owen wrapped it around his arms, taking his time and securing them tightly in place. He tugged lightly against the improvised restraint when he felt Owen’s hands pull away and rub lightly up his arms, and found that he couldn’t move more than a few millimeters. It wasn’t tight enough to restrict his circulation, so long as he didn’t fight against it. Owen slid his hand across Ianto’s shoulders and up the back of his neck, tightening in the dark strands at the crown of his head. He pulled back, forcing Ianto to bend backwards to follow his hand until his head rested on Owen’s shoulder.

“Get up on the bed, on your knees, head down.”

Owen released his hair and put a hand on his shoulder to help him regain his footing. Ianto walked to the end of the bed, kneeling up on it and shuffling until his entire body was on the mattress. Then he leaned forward as carefully as he could until gravity took over and he fell the rest of the way down, his back bowed as he tilted his face towards the door. He could barely make out Jack’s silhouette in the corner, eyes hooded with lust as he stroked his palm slowly across the front of his lap. Ianto closed his eyes to the erotic sight, focusing on the door handle when he reopened them, the reminder of their audience too much for him to bear for very long. Owen put one knee up on the bed and bent down, grabbing Ianto’s hair again as he whispered dangerously in his ear, his voice barely loud enough for Ianto to hear.

“I’m going to make you say it, Ianto. That special word you save just for him.”

“Never.” Ianto managed to gasp with the last of his defiance, knowing even as he said it that it was a lie, but taking a small amount of comfort in the fact that, after he finally gave in, he would not suffer the retribution alone.

“We’ll see.” Owen chuckled darkly, pushing up and off the bed.

Wrapping the end of Ianto’s belt around his fist until he had a length about eighteen inches long, Owen dragged the end across Ianto’s back and down over his behind as he walked around the corner of the bed, making the younger man shiver. He swung the tip softly, catching the tender skin on the back of Ianto’s thigh, eliciting a sharp gasp.

“Spread your legs. As wide as you can.”

The silk sheets hissed softly as Ianto pushed his knees apart until he was only a few centimeters shy of falling the rest of the way to the bed. The position left him completely exposed, unable to protect his more vulnerable parts from the swing of the belt, and lifted him high enough that he wouldn’t be able to find any relief from rubbing against the sheets. He couldn’t help the quiet whimper that escaped him when Owen ran his hand along the curve of Ianto’s cheek.

“Say it.”

“No.”

Owen brought the belt down harshly, the snap of the leather loud in the quiet of the bedroom. He peppered Ianto’s behind with a dozen short, sharp slaps, and Ianto bit his lower lip to keep himself from making too much noise this early in the game. He knew Owen would never actually get close to the limits of his endurance, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make the doctor work for it.

“Are you sure?”

Ianto stayed silent, refusing to answer.

“Your choice. Let me know when you change your mind.”

The belt came down even harder, laying white hot lines of pain across Ianto’s rear and the backs of his thighs. After another dozen strikes, Owen changed the angle of his swing, letting the tip curl around and nip at the inside of Ianto’s thighs. When he moved and shortened his strokes, hitting as close as he dared to get to Ianto’s bollocks, he heard harsh breaths following every stroke. A half dozen more brought soft whimpers, and by the time he laid the third dozenth strike, Ianto’s cheeks and thighs were a brilliant red, and his voice had risen in volume; unable to control his reactions, but not yet willing to surrender.

“Say it.”

“...No.”

Kneeling up on the bed with one leg, Owen wrapped the belt around his hand even further, leaving a short, thin length of about four inches. Using the fingers of his left hand, he spread Ianto’s cheeks apart, exposing his hole to the cool air of the room. At Ianto’s sharp inhalation of fear, Owen smirked.

“Say it.”

“... ...No.” Ianto whimpered, barely loud enough to be heard.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, Owen brought the end of the belt down right in the center of the small wrinkled entrance, thrilling inside at the harsh yelp of pain Ianto couldn’t contain. He snapped the tip of the belt down again and again, savoring every whimper and moan as he drew them out. The harsh snick of leather hitting skin filled the air, mingling with the sounds of pain as Owen continued, slowing only when he heard Ianto’s responses turn to pleas.

“Please… please…” Ianto whispered brokenly, tears in his eyes from the pain and arousal singing in his blood.

“Are you ready to give in?” Owen asked without a hint of compassion, bringing the belt down again, forcing a strangled sob from the man below him.

“Yes… please…”

“Almost.” He snapped the belt with as much force as he could without breaking the skin, pushing Ianto forward as he tried to escape the pain, crying hoarsely.

“Please… … _ sir _ …”

Owen’s cock strained painfully against the front of his jeans as the word passed Ianto’s lips, and his heart skipped at least twelve beats at the force of the inhale he heard from the corner. He could feel the lid to his coffin slam shut, every nail driving home at once. He closed his eyes, dropped the belt to the floor, and took a deep breath, calming his heart as he ran his hand gently along the reddened flesh of Ianto’s behind. He popped a finger into his mouth, slicking it quickly before pulling it back out and circling the bright red abused flesh of Ianto’s hole.

“Tell me what you want, Ianto. Beg me for it.”

Ianto’s breath caught in his throat. He’d never been spanked somewhere so intimate before, but his analytical mind was more than happy to inform him of exactly how painful it would be if Owen entered him now. His cock, on the other hand, jumped in anticipation of such blissful agony. He let out another soft sob as Owen pressed gently into him, breaching him for less than a second, but the bright flash of need that surged through him was enough to loosen his voice.

“Please… please fuck me.”

A quick glance up revealed a small bottle of lube sitting on the nightstand, and Owen smiled to himself. He stood and grabbed it, returning quickly and slicking his fingers. Ianto cried out quietly as Owen slowly pushed his index finger inside him, breathing heavily through the burn as his soft, tenderized skin was stretched. Despite the clenching that was a natural reaction to the pain he was in, Owen was unsurprised to find that Ianto was relatively relaxed inside, and he was able to slip a second finger in after only a few moments. He scissored his fingers apart roughly, unwilling to risk damaging the younger man, but wanting to make sure Ianto felt every inch as he slid inside him.

Pulling his fingers out, Owen forced his arousal to calm when Ianto whimpered at his absence. He quickly shed his clothes, tossing them somewhere vaguely out of the way. His erection was slick with excitement, eager for relief. But Owen was patient. Kneeling up on the bed behind Ianto, he coated himself in lube and gently pressed his tip against Ianto’s bright red pucker. He held himself there for a moment, softly drawing his nails across the equally reddened cheeks.

“Are you ready?”

Ianto bit his lower lip, every last shred of defiance gone as he took a brief, shattered breath, and surrendered completely.

“No… please…”

Owen grabbed Ianto’s hips and snapped his own forward slightly, burying just the crown of his cock inside him. Ianto’s head lifted a few centimeters off the duvet as he screamed breathlessly. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, the sudden wide stretch pulled painfully on the abused muscle, accompanied by the warm glow of pleasure at being filled. Giving him no time to adjust, Owen started pushing his hips forward, slowly forcing his way inside while Ianto tried to make himself breath through his tears, pleading for a mercy he knew would never come.

“Oh, God, it hurts… no more, please… please… it hurts so much… Owen, please…”

Reveling in every babbled cry, Owen smirked as he continued pushing in until Ianto’s hips were pulled flush against his own. He gave in and held still for a couple seconds, just long enough for Ianto to take a stuttering breath, before pulling back and starting to thrust. The tiny sliver of concern in his mind, that made him wonder if he’d pushed too far, was eased away as Ianto’s voice changed from pained whimpers… to moans of pleasure as he lost himself in the sensations.

As he picked up the pace, Owen realised he wasn’t going to last very long, and Ianto didn’t sound far off. He leaned down and reached around him, fisting his hand on Ianto’s cock, stroking him in time with his hips.

“Please…” Ianto whispered, looking back at him, unfocused eyes glazed with lust.

“Come.”

Owen felt the velvety walls contract almost painfully around him, pulling him close behind as Ianto climaxed, spilling onto the duvet beneath him. He threw his head back as his vision whited out, and he felt a sharp pinch of pressure at the back of his right leg, just above the knee. As his vision returned, he felt another, sharper pinch at the back of his left. Just above the knee. Before Owen could focus enough to question the strange pains, he felt the heat of a body press up against his back, and the whisper of breath pass over his ear.

“Did you miss me?”

_ Jack. _ A mild spark of fear shot up Owen’s spine, driving away any thought of afterglow. Strong arms wrapped around him, and he felt the distinct sensation of cold steel closing around his wrists. He tried to pull his arms apart a fraction of a second too late, and his now cuffed hands stopped less than fifteen centimeters apart. When Jack pulled his shoulders back against his chest, Owen struggled in his grip and found he couldn’t move. At all. His legs were bound in place to Ianto’s, (by what he assumed to be his and Jack’s belts,) and he was stuck, his cock still fully seated inside the younger man. He pulled his hips back to try and dislodge himself, but only succeeded in removing a couple inches before he had to move back to keep from overcorrecting and sending them all tumbling to the floor. Ianto cried out softly as Owen thrust his now softened cock back inside him, his overwrought nerves and aching muscles screaming at the stimulation. Owen shuddered as he realised that whatever Jack was going to do to him, he would spend the entire time fucking Ianto while he did it. Whether he wanted to or not.

“Oh, God…” Owen breathed, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“Not quite,” Jack chuckled richly, his deep, bass tones rolling through Owen’s mind like a pleasant fog, promising the heights of ecstasy if he would only listen, “But you’re close.” Jack slid his hand up to Owen’s throat, squeezing lightly. “I said you could  _ play _ with my toys. I didn’t say you could  _ steal _ them.”

“Sir… please…”

“Ah ah ah,” Jack tutted as he moved away from Owen and knelt up onto the bed, gripping Ianto’s hair and lifting his head just off the covers, “You gave that word away, Ianto. Now you’ll have to earn it back.” He released Ianto’s hair and let him fall back to the mattress. He whimpered as the movement jostled Owen inside him.

“What are you going to do?” Owen asked quietly when Jack moved back around behind him. He heard the quiet sound of wood on carpet and tried to turn around to see what Jack was doing, stopping almost immediately when Ianto tightened around him, making him shudder.

Jack opened the chest he’d pulled out from under the bed, and picked up his riding quirt, an old relic from his early days with Torchwood. He’d kept it maintained over the years, and it was so worn in it made for an excellent implement of pain. One he’d found Owen favoured. Standing, he pushed the chest back under the bed with a foot, and snapped the quirt against his leg, making Owen and Ianto both jump at the resulting crack.

“Oh, God…” Owen whispered, swallowing around the fear and excitement in his throat at the familiar sound.

“You took something that belonged to me, Owen,” Jack explained, voice low and threatening, “And now, you’re going to give it back.”

He swung his arm before Owen had the chance to answer, laying the falls right between Owen’s shoulder blades. There was a soft grunt of pain in response, and Owen held as still as he could, trying to keep from moving his hips too much. The constant pressure on overly sensitive flesh was a hellish slice of heaven for both Owen and Ianto, and Owen braced himself against Ianto’s waist to keep from thrusting involuntarily as the quirt lashed his back again. After only a handful of strikes, Jack paused and ran the leather thongs along Owen’s arm.

“Hands on your head. I admire your loyalty, but he deserves this just as much as you do.”

Owen caught Ianto’s eye and gave him an apologetic look, raising his arms and lacing his fingers together behind his head. He bit into his lower lip as Jack continued, striking him hard across the center of his ass, forcing his hips forward, and making Ianto cry out. Owen resolutely refused to make any noise, not wanting to give Jack the satisfaction just yet. 

The quirt bit into his thighs, then snapped across his back again. The pattern was random, never staying long in one place, but never striking where he expected. By the thirtieth lash, Owen was perspiring with the efforts to remain motionless and silent, the salt stinging at the raised welts all along his skin. Ianto was trying to take shaky breaths through his tears as the constant gentle rubbing against his prostate started to reawaken his arousal. He clenched tightly as a particularly harsh stroke drove Owen’s hips forward, and he felt Owen’s cock start to twitch in interest.

After another ten, Owen was well on his way to fully aroused, and his breaths were coming out in soft groans of pleasure. The pain stopped suddenly, and a hand fisted in his hair, pulling him back so Jack could purr the threat into his ear.

“If you come before I give you permission, I’ll whip you till you’re hard again, and fuck you through two more. You know I can, Owen. And you know I will.”

Owen closed his eyes and tried to suppress a whimper at the memory that flashed in his mind. He’d told Jack that there was no way the older man had the stamina to fuck him dry. He’d been wrong. Eleven orgasms later, Jack had finally come. Eventually, he’d recovered enough to sit comfortably again, and Owen hadn’t dared to question him since.

At his nod of understanding, Jack released him and snapped the leather down the center of his rear, the falls just long enough to sting his hole, forcing his cock back into Ianto as he tried to escape the pain, and breaking his concentration enough to let a gasp slip through. A dozen more strikes left Owen breathless and unable to keep his body from moving with the pain, his cock now harder than iron from the constant stimulation, while Ianto’s cries had morphed into one long, drawn out moan of bliss.

Jack grinned evilly at the sight in front of him and brought the quirt down harder. After less than a half dozen more swings, Jack struck down the center of his ass again, and Owen bent himself backwards, forcing his hips to thrust forward hard enough to move the two restrained men a few centimeters up the covers, and  _ screamed _ . (With a sideways glance, Jack checked that the small piece of tech by the door was still blinking steadily. It would put a large damper on his plans for the evening to have the neighbors start banging on the door to see if they’d been murdered.) Bringing his focus back, Jack listened as Owen’s breathing turned ragged, and he moved his body back into position. Jack rolled his shoulder to loosen the tense muscles, and spoke, putting every single bit of authority he had into his voice.

“Count.”

He slashed the quirt across Owen’s back as hard as he safely could, tearing another scream from Owen’s throat. After a shaky, tear-filled breath, he forced out the ordered response with a harsh gasp.

“One.”

The next strike landed on the sit spots of his right thigh. The cry was higher and louder, layered with agony and submission, and it took a couple breaths for Owen to manage a keening:

“Two.”

Across the back again, bringing another scream. Jack waited patiently for Owen to regain his voice.

“Three.”

Jack snapped the thin leather falls down Owen’s left thigh. The resulting sob was so pained and broken, Jack had to press his palm firmly against his achingly hard cock to keep himself under control. Tears filled Owen’s voice as he stutteringly counted the stroke.

“F-four.”

With a deep breath, Jack brought the quirt straight down the line between Owen’s cheeks, pushing his hips forwards as he screamed again, pain momentarily robbing his cry of sound. As the bright sting of the lash started to fade into a deep burn, Owen felt tears roll down his cheeks, sobbing hoarsely:

“Fi-f-five.”

Jack gently dropped the quirt to the floor and twisted his fingers in Owen’s hair, pulling gently.

“What do you say, Owen?”

Owen began to tremble as his body physically fought his submission. The grip on his hair tightened, wringing a final, broken cry of defiance from his aching throat before he gave in.

“Thank you… … …  _ sir _ …”

“Good boy.” Jack loosened his grip and guided Owen’s hands back down in front of him, massaging his shoulders gently to ease the stiffness. “Ianto. You still with me?”

“Yes, sir.” Ianto’s breathless moan was so filled with lust, Jack wasn’t sure he would notice if the room caught fire.

“How many fingers did he use?” Jack asked, fully aware of the answer, but loving the way Owen went suddenly tense beneath his hands.

“Two, sir.” Came the immediate answer, Ianto’s mind taking a few seconds longer to understand the implication of the question.

“That’s unfortunate.” Jack intoned with false sympathy, picking up the bottle of lube from where Owen had dropped it on the mattress.

“No, please… please…” Owen begged, shifting his hips in a reflexive attempt to escape. He hadn’t been penetrated in more than half a year, and Jack was by no means small. Even with three fingers worth of preparation, there was still a significant amount of burn as he pushed inside. Owen started to hyperventilate. “No, please… I haven’t… you can’t… God, please don’t…”

Jack wrapped an arm around Owen’s chest and pulled him back against him, shushing him gently.

“Easy, Owen. If you fight me, this is going to hurt a lot more than it has to.”

Gradually, Owen’s breathing slowed. He knew Jack would never truly damage him, no matter what the context of the game. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make it hurt. Jack slid his hand around to Owen’s back and pressed gently, urging him to lie over Ianto. Owen pressed his forehead to Ianto’s bound arms, letting out a sob of fear as he heard the lid to the bottle pop open.

“Ianto. How many strikes did he take?”

“Sixty-four, sir.”

Owen had just enough brain power for a few seconds of absolute awe, that, even through all the pain of overstimulation and near constant pleasure, Ianto had been  _ counting _ . With actual numbers. Owen had barely made it to five.

“Well, you held out pasty fifty, so I suppose I can be lenient. Just this once.” Jack rubbed a cold, slick finger around the ring of Owen’s hole before pressing all the way inside, making Owen gasp. But his mind wasn’t so far gone that he wanted to risk pushing his luck.

“Thank you… … sir…”

Jack chuckled darkly and pressed a second finger inside of him, scissoring them gently after allowing only a moment for Owen to adjust. He pushed in and out for nearly half a minute, coaxing Owen’s muscles to relax. Pulling out for a second, Jack smacked Owen’s behind softly as his hips tried to follow him, and added more lube to his fingers. He pressed three fingers in slowly, ignoring Owen’s moans of pain until they were all the way inside, and holding them there for only a few seconds before removing them roughly. He opened the button on his trousers and pulled down the zipper. Owen inhaled sharply at the sound, pleading for mercy in a broken whisper.

“No, no, no, please… I can’t… please…”

With a tug, Jack freed his cock from its confines, and quickly slicked his length before tossing the bottle of lube to the side. Owen continued to beg as he pressed the head of his cock to Owen’s furled opening.

“Take a deep breath.”

Owen complied immediately, holding it for nearly half a second before it rushed back out of him, Jack’s cock pressing inside as he exhaled, turning it into a scream as white hot pain burned through his ass. He felt as though he was being torn in half, ripped apart by the spear of agony pressing relentlessly inside him. A tiny voice in the back of his mind reminded him to breathe, and he gulped in a lungful of air. The pain eased back from the edge, and he sobbed as he felt Jack’s hips rest against his abused cheeks, fully seated. Jack held himself still and gave Owen a moment to adjust.

When his breathing slowed, and the velvet vice around his cock relaxed a little, Jack pulled back a few inches, then snapped his hips forward again, drawing out two identical gasps of pleasure as the movement forced Owen to move inside Ianto. Jack set a bruising pace, holding onto Owen’s hips and using his own motions to fuck Owen’s cock into the man beneath him. The room filled with soft painful cries, and moans and whimpers of pleasure. Sooner than he’d expected, Jack heard a quiet, desperate plea from below him.

“... Sir, please…”

He looked down at Ianto, flushed and panting with need, and so close he could probably taste it.

“Can you do it? Can you come untouched on Owen’s cock?”

“... Please…”

“Do it, Ianto. Come for me.”

Jack sped up his thrusts and Ianto’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, screaming soundlessly as his entire body began to tremble from the force of his orgasm. The silken walls that surrounded Owen’s cock began to flutter wildly, quickly pulling him to the edge.

“Oh, God, please… please…”

“Come.” Jack ordered huskily.

Jack moaned as Owen cried out his climax, letting go of his hips as Owen lost control of his movements, thrusting sporadically to draw out his release, and inadvertently fucking back against Jack as he did. The sensations around his cock as Owen rode out his high were sheer bliss, and Jack savored every moment until he felt Owen start to still beneath him. He gripped Owen’s hips again tightly and gave himself another handful of thrusts, then spilled inside him, throwing back his head and leaving fingerprint bruises as his own release tore through him with a groan.

As the haze cleared from his mind, Jack gently slipped out of Owen, rubbing his hip softly when he hissed at the movement. He pulled the key to the handcuffs out of his pocket and knelt up on the bed to release Owen’s wrists. Tossing the cuffs on the floor, Jack quickly tugged at the belts securing Owen and Ianto’s thighs, easing Owen down to the sheets on his side once they were free.

“I’ll be right back.” Jack promised at Owen’s soft moan of pain.

He placed a hand on Ianto’s hip and came around the corner of the bed, climbing up and swiftly, but carefully, untying Ianto’s arms. Jack placed a soft kiss on Ianto’s reddened wrist as he dropped the silken restraint to the floor, and urged Ianto down onto the covers, facing Owen. As he made his way to the en suite, Jack shed his braces and both his shirts. He dropped his trousers, socks, and boxers in front of the sink, and grabbed a small stack of flannels, turning on the warm water.

Washing himself quickly, Jack dampened the other two cloths with warm water, and brought them back to the bedroom. He cleaned Owen first, making sure to go over all the welts the quirt had left before wiping the warm cloth around his softened cock and between his cheeks, rubbing calming circles into his hip when he started to tremble from the stimulation to overwrought nerves.

“I’m almost done. I’ll be right back, as soon as I help Ianto.”

Jack did as much as he could for Owen, then took the second cloth and went around to Ianto. He worked as quickly as he could, shushing his lover quietly when he whimpered at the scrape of the rough fabric against his raw skin. Remembering at the last second to wipe up the small puddle Ianto had made on the duvet, Jack finished his ministrations, then climbed onto the bed in between the other two men.

He pulled Ianto in close and rubbed his back as Ianto settled his head on Jack’s shoulder. Jack lay his arm on the sheets just above Owen’s head, letting his fingers draw lazy circles in Owen’s hair. The offer of physical comfort obvious, but easily ignored if it wasn’t wanted. Owen leaned into the gentle hand on his head and pressed into Jack’s side, his breathing starting to level as he slowly came back down to earth.

After nearly five, quiet minutes, Ianto blinked lazily and rolled his shoulders, sighing pleasantly at the ache the motion prompted below his waist.

“That felt amazing.” Ianto said as he turned to lay on his back and stretched.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Jack smiled.

“There are definitely worse ways to check someone for a concussion.” Owen snarked as he also rolled onto his back, prompting a bark of laughter from Jack and a partially stifled chuckle from Ianto.

Owen winced as he sat up, hissing breathlessly as he stood and rolled his hips, and again as he reached down and picked up his pants.

“Where are you going?” Ianto asked, lifting himself up onto his elbow.

“Home. I’m not the sleep-over type, and you said just once.” Owen responded, as though the answer was obvious, and grabbed his overshirt.

“We said one  _ night _ . Sun’s not up yet.” Ianto smirked with a pointed gesture at the bed.

“We have to work tomorrow!” Owen attempted to reason with him.

“So? _ ” _ Ianto flapped his hand dismissively, “I'll just blow the boss under his desk in the morning. Then he won’t care  _ what _ we do.”

“Oh my God.” Owen exclaimed partially under his breath, with an unbelieving smile, “You are  _ actually _ worse than  _ he _ is!”

Jack chuckled softly and gave Owen his characteristic smirk.

“You have no idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. BE SAFE.
> 
> NO SERIOUSLY. THIS IS FICTION. COMMUNICATE AND USE A CONDOM.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Drop me a kudo or a comment and let me know what you thought!


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